


Something Borrowed

by lunarlychallenged



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Borrowing Clothes, Sleepovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 03:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15596736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarlychallenged/pseuds/lunarlychallenged
Summary: You kind of have a thing for borrowing Jeremy's clothes.  He kind of doesn't mind.





	Something Borrowed

Michael: let’s go bowling after hanging at jeremys. we can buy pizza

Y/N: I dont have socks with me

Michael: borrow jeremys

Y/N: I literally dont want an std, dude

Jeremy: pretty sure you dont know what an std is

Y/N: sock transmitted disease

Michael: shady tubesock disease

Jeremy: it was your idea, Michael. do you want to go bowling or not

Y/N: fine. Thx

 

 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like the idea of wearing Jeremy’s clothes (But seriously? Socks? Really, Michael? If not an STD, definitely something). There were just some boundaries that had to be kept, right?

Like, friends can share clothes. Totally. But if, hypothetically, you were totally in love with that friend, you might not want to put yourself in a situation that turns you into a stricken mess of happiness and fantasy.

It was easy to imagine dating Jeremy. He had never been good at casual relationships. With crushes, it meant that he was all in. With friends, it meant that you were immediately invited to his house, or the mall, or on errands that he didn’t like doing alone. All it would take to be dating was to hold his hand, or kiss him on the doorstep, or to let him catch you ogling him without looking away after.

He would have to feel the same way as you, but that was easy to imagine when you were wearing something of his. It was better not to open that door.

 

 

“Up. All. Night.” You yawned between the words, and the boys smirked at you.

“I don’t think you could stay up for another hour,” Jeremy said.

“Is that a challenge?” You tried to scan his face to see how serious he was, but you couldn’t get your eyes to open wide enough. 

Michael nudged you with his foot. “Jer, I think it’s trying to communicate.”

“I always knew there wasn’t intelligent life on other planets.”

You scowled, but yawned again. “I can do this. Up all night.”

Michael glanced at his watch, at you, and at Jeremy. “Maybe I should drive Y/N home.”

“That’s dumb,” you said. “You’re sleeping over. You’d be dropping me off, just to come back here. I’ll just walk home, like always.”

“Absolutely not,” Jeremy snorted. “You can’t walk home like this. You’d pass out in some bush.”

“No,” you said.

“Yes,” he said. Jeremy frowned, glancing up the basement stairs, and shrugged. “Just sleep over. My dad won’t care, since Michael is here too.”

“I don’t have my stuff.”

“You can borrow mine,” Jeremy said immediately.

You could hardly keep your eyes open long enough to get dressed in some of his clothes. When you staggered back down the stairs, you collapsed on the floor between the bean bag chairs. 

“G’night,” you mumbled. The boys said something back, but you were gone before you could figure out what.

When you woke up in the morning, everything smelled like Jeremy. The clothes, the blanket somebody had draped over you, and the leg that you face was pressed into. You sat up immediately, eyes wide. Jeremy had slept in his chair next to you. Michael was gone, so either Jeremy had stayed because he wanted to sleep by you, or you had fallen asleep on him and he refused to move.

You grinned at him. His mouth was open a little, head tilted back. You wanted to touch him, to thank him, but you settled for covering him with your blanket before padding up the stairs to find food.

 

 

Y/N: thanks for letting me wear your pjs

Jeremy: dont sweat it

Y/N: if you ever need to borrow mine, just ask

Jeremy: yeah, not gonna happen

Y/N: yeah, that’s a whole other fantasy

 

 

“You want,” he said carefully, “to borrow my clothes.”

You set your jaw, scowling at the way his eyebrows skyrocketed. “Of course I do. I’m soaked. You asked me to walk here, in the rain, to break in a new game with you.”

“You should have brought your own change of clothes,” he mumbled. You saw the way he bit his lip, looking toward his bedroom, and realized why he was so hesitant. Jeremy was terrible about doing laundry. It was disgusting. If he was hogging his clothes, it was probably because he didn’t have any he felt comfortable giving to you. 

“Jeremy,” you said with a sugary smile. “You know I love it when you’re stupid for no reason. It’s adorable. But if you don’t get me dry clothes, I’ll just take off the wet clothes.”

“You wouldn’t,” he said with narrowed eyes.

“I’m sure your dad wouldn’t care,” you crooned. “I’ve seen him in his underwear. Why not return the favor?”

“Hold on,” he rushed, darting away.

When he came back, it was with sweatpants and an Eminem shirt.

“Really? Eminem is the worst. He’s terrible to-”

“To women, I know,” he mumbled. “I don’t wear it - it’s just a memento.”

“From what?”

“Something,” he said. “Do you want to wear it or not?”

You silently walked into the bathroom to change. Jeremy threw your clothes in the dryer, hooked up the game, and said nothing about what he thought of you in his clothes. You said nothing when you noticed him taking a picture of you, but it did make your chest feel light and twirly for the rest of the night.

 

 

Michael: jeremy should just buy 2 of everything. you practically take everything he has already

Y/N: strong words from the guy who pushes me to borrow his stuff

Michael: i could stop

Y/N: you could, but i wouldnt

Michael: youre a monster

Y/N: you made me like this

 

 

It was funny: you wouldn’t have been sad to leave your dad if he had been the one to drop you off at the airport. You would have hugged him goodbye, rolled your eyes when he told you to be safe, to make good decisions.

(“Jesus, Dad, I’m going to Grandma’s. Alone. There’s nothing bad to do, and nobody to do it with. Chill.”)

Your dad could not drop you off at the airport. He would be working at the time of your flight, and he said that he could trust you to get there on your own. You could take a bus, or call an Uber.

When Michael heard, he decided to drop you off himself. He and Jeremy would see you off, and no discouragement on your part could make him change his mind.

Standing in the airport with the two of them, you were sad to leave.

You scuffed your feet along the tiles. “Well, I guess this is it. You’ll never see me again.”

“For two weeks,” Michael sighed. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me alone with Jeremy.”

“You’ve lived with that before,” you said solemnly. “What’s another fourteen days?”

Jeremy frowned at your outfit choice. “Is that really what you’re wearing on the plane? What happened to comfort clothes?”

“It’s only for a few hours. I can handle regular clothes.”

“Planes are cold,” he said. “Aren’t you taking a jacket?”

“It’s July,” you scoffed, but he was already shrugging off his zip-up sweatshirt. You had made fun of him for wearing it in the middle of the summer, but part of you wondered if he had been planning on something like this.

“Planes are cold year-round,” he said.

You accepted his offering, shoving your smile beneath a scowl. Before you could thank him, or kiss him goodbye, or maybe call him a goblin in a terrible attempt to cover up the first two desires, the first boarding call sounded. “I guess this is it. For real, this time.”

“You’ll come back to me after the war, won’t you, darling?” Michael put on a southern accent, but something about the way he shaped the words made him sound more New Jersey than ever.

“Really, man?” Jeremy slugged him in the arm. “After I gave Y/N a token of my affection? Lousy timing.”

“Tell you what,” you said. “I’ll come back for both of you.”

“But mostly me. To give back the sweater,” Jeremy said.

You shrugged it on. “I might keep it.”

“You better not,” he said. When he hugged you goodbye, you pretended to cry. It gave you an excuse to breathe in deep, to breathe him in.

You texted him while you were gone to tell him that you would keep the sweatshirt for the rest of always. He told you that he wanted it back, but that he would return it once it smelled like him again. You told him that you didn’t care about the smell. It was a lie.

 

 

“Another slumber party,” you crooned. “Love.”

“Don’t call it a slumber party,” Jeremy scowled. “I’m a man. Michael is a man. We have manly hang outs.”

“Slumber party,” you said cheerily. “Awesome. I’ll just go home to pack a bag.”

Jeremy’s feet shuffled. You had walked to his house to lend him a movie, but the two of you had been standing in his yard for an hour. “No need. You’re already here.”

You snorted. “Here, Heere.”

“Shut up,” he sighed. “For real, though. No point going home when I have everything you need here. Michael will be here soon, anyway.”

You grinned at him, nudging his side. “You just like seeing me in your clothes.”

Silence.

“Oh my God.”

His cheeks burned. “No!”

“You actually like seeing me in your clothes,” you said, gaping at him. Your stomach kicked with delight.

“No, really, I -”

“I had no idea that it does it for you.”

“God, Y/N, you’re making it sound weird,” he said. He ran his hand through his hair, making the short strands stand straight up. “Seriously, it’s nothing. Like, I’ll bet every guy feels like that.”

“Whatever you say, Jer,” you said. “I’ll be back in, like, ten minutes.”

You took a step backward, but he grabbed your wrist. You were going to ask him what he was doing, but he answered the question on his own by tugging you back to him, cupping your face in his hands, and kissing you.

“Oh,” you said.

“Yeah,” he squeaked.

“Maybe I’ll just - you know, just stay here.”

He smiled then, running one of his thumbs over your bottom lip. “Yeah.”


End file.
